


I Wanna Be Yours

by Unknown



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: AU, Big Brother Jon, Catelyn Gets Over Herself And She And Jon Are Sassy Together, Half-Sibling Incest, Jon Feels Stalked, Jon Is Also A Dummy, M/M, Mistaken Identity, Separations, Years Later, compliments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-02
Updated: 2014-07-02
Packaged: 2018-02-07 05:09:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1886277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unknown/pseuds/Unknown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Knight likes to compliment Jon. Unfortunately, Jon is busy waiting for his estranged older brother to come back from Kings Landing after 7 years apart training to be a lord and he has no time for pretty words and petty compliments. If only he would be a bit more observant...</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Wanna Be Yours

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Jon/Robb Week over on tumblr!
> 
> Title from the Arctic Monkeys song by the same name.

Jon remembers his older brother Robb, reddish-brown hair catching the sunlight at thirteen years old before he rode away from Jon. Jon had only thought Robb was going to the south for a few months, but it was days later his father finally admitted that Robb was down their for proper training to be a Steward of the Northern Lands. 

"How long does that take?" Jon had asked, young eyes wide and worried.

"Years," Ned had admitted, and Jon had stayed in his rooms for days. He had gotten over himself, learned to hide away his pain. Robb had been his everything, his shining star, the one he looked up to. But there had been more. Some years ago, just ten years old, they had been playing together as they were wont to do and Robb had presses a soft, unsure kiss to the corner of Jon's mouth, confused but hopeful. The problem had only been about Jon's bastard status, neither boy caring much about the fact that they were half-brothers. They had explored, innocently of course, over the next three years. And now, without a kiss goodbye, Robb had been pulled away from him. 

* * *

**_7 years later..._ **

Sansa yells for Jon in the next room and with an eye roll, both Jon and Arya make their way down the hall. She has her back toward them, the fifteen year old girl scowling at her reflection in the mirror. Her dress needs to be tightened and tied closed, and she takes her long, red hair and throws it over her shoulder. 

"Tie me up?" she says hurriedly and Arya laughs at the dirty joke in their somewhere while Jon swallows back his smile and helps. It had taken a year or two for her to warm up to him, but after realizing he was all she had by way of older brother, Sansa had warmed up quickly. Arya and he had always been close, as had he and Bran, and he had been all Rickon had known by way of eldest brothers. 

"Why are you getting all dolled up?" Jon asks as he finishes. Sansa turns around, her cheeks going as red as the hair she starts so plait. Jon slits his eyes. "What did you hear?"

"Nothing," she says, too quick to be the truth. She looks away and lowers her eyes. "Just... mother got a raven the other day. And, well, I heard her say Robb's name." Arya and Jon throw each other looks, Jon's heart falling into his stomach.

"So, he's coming back?" Jon asks, not really trusting his voice.

Sansa nods. "He's coming back."

* * *

By the afternoon, the news has  _somehow_  spread all over Winterfell. The castle is bustling, getting things ready for their Lord Returned. 

Jon has vomited three times from nerves.

It's just... he had not thought he would see his brother again. No, really, he thought Catelyn would have him shipped off to the Wall by now, but their relationship had mended when her eldest had been taken from her. She had... begun to accept Jon. Not to the point of naming him a Stark, he thinks, but they have tea together, and she teaches him weaving since he isn't expected to learn anything much about being a lord and his fighting is flawless. They have an inside joke or two and gossip about the ostentatious lords and ladies that come to the castle on occasion. It's good.

So seeing him again, when Jon has only casually been with other men and women, never with the same person twice, it worries him. Maybe Robb will come back with a bride. Maybe he will think little of Jon. Maybe he will not remember him. 

He's mucking out the stables when footsteps break him out of his reveries. He turns to find one of the most gorgeous faces he has even seen. Dark red hair bordering on a russet brown curls into lovely icy blue eyes, a strong jaw under pale skin and rough stubble. The man is in armor, leading his horse into the stable and he freezes when he sees Jon. Jon ducks his head. He knows the look of a noble. Catelyn had admitted to him that Robb was coming, a few fellow soldiers coming up with him. This must be one of them, which meant Robb was already here...

"You have the prettiest hair I have ever seen," the man says, making Jon's head snap over to him. 

"I... what?" Jon says. He ignores the comment. He must have been hearing things. "Jon Snow," he says introducing himself. He wants to get out and find Robb. He wonders if he looks the same. Seven years is far too long. "Do you need help, m'lord?"

The man's eyes widen comically. "You're Jon Snow?" His eyes drag up Jon's body and Jon blushes. "Cheeks like roses in bloom," the man mutters and then smiles widely at Jon, about to say something. 

Jon frowns. That was definitely a compliment. But Robb... he owes Robb, he needs Robb. Not... this knight. 

"Do you need something my lord?" he asks, deliberately. The man's eyes dim as he shakes his head. So Jon shrugs and leaves.

* * *

"Have you seen Robb?" Sansa says excitedly. Jon frowns. 

"No, I haven't been able to find him all day," he says, put out.

"He's gotten taller!" Bran says and Rickon nods his little head to the point where Jon is fearful it might pop off. 

"Damn," Jon says. "Will he be at dinner?"

"No," Arya says glumly. "Doing things with Dad. Planning. Lordly things." She huffs a sigh and Jon joins in.

"We'll practice with Needle then," Jon says, trying to cheer them both up. "So when he comes out of his busy work he has something to see." Her smile is not enough to lift his spirits.

* * *

He does not get to see Robb that day. Jon feels miserable in bed.

* * *

The knight is back. Jon is training and he is standing by, watching. Jon stops, feeling self-conscious. He is shirtless, spinning his sword around at the wooden training dummy. He sheaths his blade and goes for his shirt, the knight coming over.

"You're so skilled," he says, overeager and earnest. Jon blinks. Is the man for real?

"Thank... you?"

"You're welcome!" He pauses. "If it's not too bold to say - you're quite fit as well," and now red floods his pale cheeks. Jon is floored. The man is openly flirting with him. Jon struggles into his shirt, looking away. "Too bold?"

"A bit, yeah," Jon says, strapping his sword to his waist. The man's hands are on him then, helping him right himself, tightening the belt correctly. Jon looks up and they are so very close. 

"Sweet eyes. And lashes, gods you're a pretty one," the knight says softly, reverently. Jon swallows hard and takes a step back. 

"Thank you," he says. Then he turns and tries not to run.

* * *

"There's a knight that is harassing me," he tells Arya later on. She knows, of course she does. She's his favorite, after Robb of course. "Where's Robb so I can complain to him and he can kick his friend's arse?"

"I can't believe you still haven't seen him," she says as they practice. She spins, parrying his blow. "All he talks about when I see him is work, how much we've all grown, and how different you look."

"He's seen me?" Jon asks. He lets his guard down and Arya takes advantage, attacking. He almost can't block her. She has gotten so good. "How? How have I missed him?"

"Dunno. You've not always been the most observant," she teases. He lets out a growl and trips her, playing dirty. She kicks his shin and somersaults backwards. She's too good for her own good, he thinks as he trips back and falls, her sword at his throat as she springs up from the somersault. 

He should not have taught her that trick.

* * *

"I've yet to see your eldest son," Jon says, taking tea with Catelyn the next morning. She frowns.

"He is busy, but I thought he would make time for you. He was always fond of you when you were children," she admits, but no longer with bitterness. 

"Maybe the south changed his mind about bastards," Jon says quietly. He sips his tea. Catelyn's hand on his makes him look up. 

"No," she says gently. "He seemed pleased that our relationship had improved." 

"I'm still not your son," Jon points out. 

"But you are like one, to me. You were all I had when he was gone. You..." She stops and Jon tries not to smile. They drink in silence. "I will speak with him." Jon nods.

They continue on in comfortable, companionable silence.

* * *

"Arya!" Sansa squeals venomously as the other thirteen year old girl runs away, screeching. Jon comes out of the hall under an arch to find Bran and Rickon running his way.

"What's going on?" he says, meeting the boys halfway. 

Bran, only twelve, looks like he is about to have a heart attack. "We were riding and Arya spooked Sansa's pony on purpose and got her thrown into the hay."

"Sansa's covered in it!" Rickon says, squealing with all the delight an eight year old can muster. He really should not look so gleeful. He looks a bit like their father when he smiles like that, though. 

"Arya!" Jon says going over to where his sister is hiding behind a barrow. She comes out and Sansa runs over, dirty dress bunched up in her hands. Jon stops her by tugging her back by the collar of her dress. Sansa seethes. "Arya, you could have seriously hurt her."

"I only did it when she was near the hay! So she wouldn't get hurt," Arya says. But he can see she knows she's wrong. Bran comes up behind him, hand on the back of Jon's shirt. Rickon grips his trousers and leans against him to watch. 

"Apologize," he says and Arya turns to her fuming sister.

"Sorry," she says, and though it is short, it's honest. Sansa sighs, still peeved. 

"You have to help me get the hay out of my hair. And help clean my dress!" she insists. Arya looks to Jon but he nods in agreement.

"Fine," she says and the girls race inside.

"I wanna watch!" Rickon says, detaching himself from Jon.

"Why?" he asks.

"They're gonna fight and fling water at each other, obviously," Bran says, taking Rickon's hand and running in with him. Jon shakes his head and laughs. His life, ladies and gentlemen. Let him never say it is not interesting or that he is ever bored, for it would be the worst lie to fall from his lips. 

"You're amazing with them." Jon closes his eyes and counts to ten to combat his flaring irritation. He turns to find the pretty red-haired night. "So diplomatic, but kind. Caring. It's plain how much you love them."

"Yes, that is typically how siblings are," he says, his voice cutting. 

The knight frowns. "There have been... no problems due to your bastard status?" It's no secret, not with Jon introducing himself with his true name. But hearing it from a stranger, a stranger that seems to find no problem in it... Jon wants to be mad, even though this man seems perfectly at ease with his supposed status. 

"What concern is it of yours? When you only have a bastard as an older sibling, you learn to get over prejudices real quick," he says, trying not to let his temper get the best of them. 

Those blue eyes become troubled and Jon feels guilty all of a sudden. That kicked puppy look is, oddly enough as well, familiar. The man nods and turns, then thinks better of it and faces Jon again, eyes determined. 

"You've done an amazing job with them. You should be proud."

"I am," Jon says slowly. Then the man turns and walks off, a defeated slope to his shoulders. 

* * *

"Robb's all grumpy," Arya says the next morning. 

"Well maybe he can finally join me and we can be grumpy together," Jon says, yanking his shirt on. The man's face is still in his mind's eye. 

"That's odd. He says things didn't go so well with you."

"Maybe that's because I  _haven't fucking seen him yet_ ," Jon says, exasperated. But when he turns Arya is still looking confused. "What?"

"Nothing," she says. "You still want me to tell him about the knight bothering you?" 

"Yes," Jon says, getting his boots on. "Before I punch the man myself."

"Whoa there," she says with a smile. "Going riding?"

"Yes. Wanna come?"

She rolls her eyes. "Mother said if I went with Sansa to go pick out fabric for her new dress that she would let me cut my hair a bit shorter." She gestures to the locks falling down her shoulders. "At least to my ears," she says with a wide smile.

Jon nods and lets her go. Maybe a ride will clear his mind.

* * *

When Jon returns, the knight is waiting for him in the stables where they first met. Jon is going to toss himself from the horse and brain himself. 

"Jon," the knight says, his pink lips and stubble stretching into a familiar smile. But why so familiar? Jon knows the man is gorgeous, and any other day he would allow himself the guilty pleasure of a roll in the hay. But he wants to see his brother, wants to know where they stand. And this man popping up everywhere Robb is not, making Jon even more frustrated. 

"Oh god, not you again," he says and damn him being a noble, Jon is through with all of this. But the man does not look deterred and Jon can feel another one of the knight's infamous compliments coming on. 

"You know, you're lips... they're the most beautiful lips I've ever seen," he says and Jon groans, dismounting and leading his horse into it's stable. There it is. The compliments, god. Did this work in Kings Landing? Because it was not cutting it in Winterfell. And then: "They've really filled out since I last saw you. Actually,  _you_ _'ve_  filled out, to be honest."

Jon freezes, his hand stilling on his horse's nose. That... what? He turned. The last time he had seen the knight had been yesterday. His lips and body looked the same. He turns fully, coming out and closing the wooden door behind him. The man is smiling, looking smug. Jon is just confused. 

"I think I look the same as I did yesterday," Jon says, slowly walking forward. That smile grows and something shifts in Jon's mind, in his memory. 

"Yes," the knight concedes, the sun highlighting the red in his curls. "But not like they looked when you were thirteen. Seven years  _is_  a long time." Jon's brow furrows. How could this knight know what he looked like at thirteen? Jon bites his aforementioned lips. Crosses his arms over his aforementioned body. The man's eyebrow goes up, smile remaining firmly in place. "So long," the knight continues, the smile growing and getting even more familiar, "that one might not even recognize  _their own brother_ , no matter how hard they  _flirt_  at them." 

Jon feels his cheeks heat as his stomach drops in dread at what the knight's words seem to implicate. No, he thinks. Oh gods no, this must be a mistake, this knight cannot be...

"Oh gods, Jon it's me," the knight says, rolling his eyes, smile beaming. "Robb?"

"Oh gods," Jon says faintly as the knight - as  _Robb_  pulls a rose out from behind his back. Jon stares at it in wonder, wondering how he got the perfect bloom up to Winterfell alive. 

"I was going to give it to you when I first saw you," he explains as he walks closer and oh how could Jon have been such a fool? He sees it now, that familiarity that he had been on the brink of placing all this time. "But we ran into each other in the stables that first day and I didn't know it was you until you introduced yourself and I just thought you weren't happy to see me."

"Robb," Jon says, reaching out. Robb comes closer, lip curling into another smile.

"So I thought, gotta make up for seven years of separation. Best way? Compliment you.On everything. None of it was an exaggeration either, my love. You are  _stunning_." His hand comes up to Jon's face, cradling it. Jon grasps the rose in his hand and takes it up to his nose to breathe in the scent, eyes fluttering closed. "Then you kept acting so... aloof and guarded. And I though, gods he really isn't going to forgive me is he? He's not interested anymore."

"I'm such a fool," Jon mutters. 

Robb's laugh is a balm to his bruised ego. "A brave, loving one," he concedes. "After I saw you delegate with the children was the last straw. I thought there was no hope. Then Arya came to me this morning and told me to tell one of the knights that traveled up to stop bothering you. I was so shocked when she described my shenanigans with you! And then it hit me: you had no idea who I was." He laughs and Jon hugs him, closing the distance between them and pressing his face into Robb's neck. He smells like wood and smoke, like sweat and something spicy. Jon has missed him so, so much. 

"I'm so stupid," Jon says against his brother's skin. 

"I thought it was adorable," Robb admits. "Am I too changed?" Now he sounds worried. 

"Too beautiful. I half-thought you were avoiding me because you didn't want me anymore and that at least I had the gorgeous stalker knight to go to for comfort." He laughs and Robb holds him tighter. It feels right. "We have so much to relearn about each other," Jon says, worry in his voice.

"We have time," Robb assures him, pulling back to look at Jon. "I'm home for good, training with father, learning about my land and history, the place that I will one day rule. I'm not going anywhere."

Jon feels as though his face will split open with the smile that comes to his face. "Plenty of time you say?"

"Yes," Robb reassures him. "Why?" The little line between his brows in his confusion is something Jon is positive he will love. 

"Just, it's been so long. And we're both so much older than we were. And I've only had lesser people to practice with..." He trails off innocently. "And I've been denying myself doing anything with you because I didn't know you were you." He pouts, Robb's eyes falling to those full lips he loves so much. 

"Practicing with others, you said?" he asks, licking his own lips. 

"I think you should erase them from my memory," Jon suggests. "Quite permanently, if you will." He peeks around his brother and nods, satisfied that the stable doors are closed, that Robb thought enough to latch them shut from the inside and that no one has any reason to come in when they think Jon is taking care of everything anyway. "As you said, we have the time." He wiggles his eyebrows and then yelps when Robb lets out a growl and tackles him into the hay. He kisses like he is going in for the kill, and the kill seems to be giving Jon the time of his life. Jon groans, letting Robb's tongue plunder his mouth. 

He gets his roll in the hay after all. 


End file.
